In our tine of war
You seized your chance
Left me in the hands
Of our enemies

Treachery against your comrade
Turning my own on me
Leaving me for dead

I never saw it coming
When you left me
At the gates of hell

But I'll return
You can not
Simply lock me away
I'll crawl back to hunt you down

I'll find you
Rob you of your joy
Leaving my misery on your shoulders

You know I'm coming
We'll meet again
At the gates of hell

You're in ruin
Not worth a dime
Or anybody's time
No longer in power

After twenty-five years
I've paid you back
With what you deserve

I'll leave you
Just as you left me
At the gates of hell

Explicit
Bold
Terrifying
And scold

Disobey
Embarks
Runaway
The marks

Stand
Fall
Cry
Then crawl

Smack
Whip
Silence
No sit

Inside
Hurt
Pain
Singe, Burn

Belt
Switch
Cord
You *****!!

Father
Mother
Family
Don't bother

Fear
Lost
Blind
All cost

"Don't punish yourself with boys, sweetheart"
She says to me over and over
to try and calm me down
when i called her at 3 in the morning
crying so hard that i couldn't breathe,
only able to mutter "I didn't want to"
through muffled screams
And I thought to myself,
Why would i punish myself with ***?
But now i'm sitting here again
at 3 in the morning
doing things i do not want to do.

"It's a beautiful thing, finding yourself through the touch of another."
Even if it's violent
And controlled
Hilarity at its most exhilarating

What is a total package?
"Try not to be so direct," offers my professor.
I'm pretty sure nothing is real anymore.
Only theoretical.

Make me hysterical.
Show me you're worth the inevitable suffering.
And yes, I do realize the suffering is inevitable either way.

The reaper's eyes were on her,
Yet she never bowed.
The reaper's ax chose her,
Yet she never soughed.

Death was finally in love,
With the girl he could never cow,
For she was something he could never have,
A girl with a skin too firm to swallow.

Why couldn't he touch the girl,.
The girl whose tears never fell,
The girl whose eyes are pearl,
The girl whose voice is a shim of bell?

Her secret wasn't a mystery,
She was too pure to be touched by maleficence.
The reaper desired her for her rarity,
But his hands burned at the touch of virtuousness.

Death chased her everyday,
In the hopes of taking her soul,
But  her soul was too far away,
Far away for him to hold.

The young maiden didn't even notice
The harvester at her tail.
She was too involved in lightness
For her to witness his veil.

The reaper's ax was rotting,
It was yearning blood,
Though who he was lusting,
Was nothing but an illusion set by god.

The girl was a mirage,
God's own penalty,
Towards the slayer,
That gave birth to misery.

When living with addiction, you focus your time and effort on your next fix. I wish that this was fiction, but its a sickness that your stricken with.

This habits self inflicted, behind your smile your suffering. You hate your life and feel numb inside, from the shame you bare as punishment.

Why do you entertain the thought of suicide, for the position you put your self in. When your depression stems from low self worth, yet your still injecting hopelessness.

Stop looking for a permanent solution, to a temporary problem. Is your life so bad that the only feeling you know is pain, or is it guilt from the thrill you get, as you search, for the perfect vain.

You say you've finally had enough, your fed up and its time for change. But its a vicious cycle with mental strain, because tomorrow came and remained the same.

One shot is heard.
Two men glance at each other knowing only one would make it.
Three guards at the door,
Restraining four crying children.
Five women-- mothers and wives mourn nearby,
Six laws were broken,
Seven things stolen,
Eight minutes were spent to make
Nine years worth nothing now.
Ten seconds to say goodbye.

90° angles becoming 45° becoming 10°.
Hands at 12 o'clock sliding down to 6.
Silence

How long have I been like this?
How much longer do I have?

10 feet of concrete
Is topped with sandstone tiles
And covered with a cheap rug.

2 string-worn tennis rackets
Lie side by side pressed into the rug
By my knees.

Soon. He'll be back soon,
And then you can stand up.

"** le. Ng zo det ki he luoi."
Words in my native tongue release me.

4 legs of the stool
Slam into the floor
As I drop it from above my head.

5 minutes later I've peeled
The wires of the rackets
From the grooves
In the skin of my knees.

2 days later
I can finally walk normally again.

But this was only
*Punishment #372.